I have a bone to pick with umbrellas, particularly ones falling under the category of 'Pretty and Girly', such as 'Specimen A' here, my new possession.
Specimen A.
Specimen A was purchased a couple of days ago – it lured me with its dainty and quirky persona, wrapped up all prim and proper in accordance with the laws of umbrella folding etiquette. The thing is, just like my freshly straightened hair on a humid day, Specimen A is sure to lose its polished edge at the first sign of moisture. Once those pretty frills have unfurled, it's all over, Red Rover.
As my mother kindly pointed out (after duly acknowledging prettiness of above purchase) these fold-up varieties tend to mess themselves in the mildest of weather conditions. Best to pop them away and surrender yourself to the downpour rather than risk embarrassment as you slide along the pavement with your pastel-coloured appendage inverted into a cone and flashing its undercarriage above your soggy head.
If this does happen to you, at least rest assured in the knowledge you have made a hefty comedic contribution to the public spectacle that is Man versus Umbrella. There are few things in life that will brighten your day so much as seeing someone else's umbrella invert itself whilst on the job, or witnessing the carnage of dead brollies left abandoned on the street after a gusty downpour. (With such an attitude it is little wonder the guy in charge of umbrella-karma has a target permanently fixed on my forehead.)
Dead Umbrella
I'm yet to come up with a solution for my dilemma – the inability to resist acquiring pretty umbrellas even though I anticipate, no, expect, such serious engineering faults. On days of truly harrowing weather conditions I always envy those people (usually suited business-types) who calmly snap open their beach-sized accessories with an air of self assurance. However, I do wonder how they have come to be so prepared. Do they lug these things to work every day of winter, always on the ready for unexpected showers? Or do they stringently check the forecast every morning? Realistically, I'm not sure I could commit to hauling the equivalent of a crutch about town every day, on my person for situations of just in case.
I suppose the conclusion here is that if you do purchase a purple umbrella with white polka dots and frills you are asking to be soaked and ridiculed. In light of these revelations, my mission for next winter is to become the proud owner of a sturdy umbrella. In the mean time, when it comes to pretty umbrellas, it might be best to stick to those varieties I know and trust. Done and done.
If I kiss you where it's sore
If I kiss you where it's sore
Will you feel better, better, better-
Will you feel anything at all?
Will you feel better, better, better
Will you feel anything at all.
Born like sisters to this world
In a town where blood ties are only blood
If you never say your name out loud to anyone They can never ever call you by it
If I kiss you where it's sore
Will you feel better, better, better...
Will you feel anything at all?
You're getting sadder, getting sadder, getting sadder, getting sadder
And I don't understand, and I don't understand
But if I kiss you where it's sore
If I kiss you where it's sore
Will you feel better, better, better
Will you feel anything at all.
Last Monday morning I found myself marooned on the lounge under a tent of blankets at 4.30am, watching the World Cup grand final. Who gets up at 4.30am anyway? My attention started to drift at half time, and drift it did, over to Channel 7's Sunrise morning program where Donna Hay was busy making some white chocolate cups.
The soccer boys had officially lost my attention.
Do I have yours? These are white chocolate cups made from balloon moulds. This morning I successfully replicated said chocolate cups! Well... mine are a little more 'special' looking. We are having a family lunch tomorrow and my plan is to whip up some chocolate mousse in the morning to go into my delicious vessels.
On a somber note, I must confess I have just had white chocolate for breakfast (only white chocolate, not even white chocolate smeared on Weetbix) and feel like the little fat kid at a party who has no self control.
Anyway - you can find the recipe online and read my extra my hints below - from the experience of an amateur!
Tricky Tricks
200 grams of white chocolate will make about 4 cups.
Cover baking trays with baking paper, sticking it to the trays with a smear of butter or cooking spray.
Donna Hay used water bomb balloons - I nearly fainted trying to blow these up (maybe because I skipped my Weetbix?!) - try regular balloons.
Melt chocolate over a double boiler. Get two small-ish saucepans, once larger than the other. Pour about an inch of boiling water into the larger saucepan, which should sit on high heat over the stove. (Boil the water in the kettle first to save energy). Sit the smaller saucepan inside the larger one and place the chocolate pieces inside to slowly melt. Make sure you don't get even a speck of water in the chocolate - it will go grainy and be ruined.
Make one cup at a time. Spoon the cup 'bases' onto the baking paper then immediately dip a balloon to avoid all the bases setting before you're ready.
1. Everyone is smiley and happy. Even the guys at Customs, who shrugged their shoulders when we asked if they would like to scan our backpacks, smiled and said "If you want... where are you staying?"
2. The fact that you can have a three-course meal for twenty dollars. And that cocktails are about $5. Then you find a place where they're $10, but there's a two-for-one offer.
3. That you can beep your horn at anyone and everyone for whatever reason you like or no reason at all. That fifty horns sound at the traffic lights the split second the light goes green.
4. The cheap pirated DVDs. Not that I bought any... la la la...
5. That you can get a full-body hour long massage for $8.
6. That I can get twenty bracelets, bangles or necklaces for what you'd pay for one at Diva.
7. The great selection of restaurants and yummy food. Being a piggy because you're on holidays. And Maccas 24/7 delivery - more for the novelty of it than for the cold, floppy chips and non-chicken-boob nuggets.
8. Getting around town on scooters - riding amongst the locals.
9. That a Bintang singlet becomes the unofficial uniform for tourists.
10. The simple lifestyle and the fact that happiness isn't about money.
A couple of weeks ago I graduated - hopefully for the last time in a long time! What better way to celebrate than with a batch of brainiac shaped cookies from Sweet Art Factory? As the deserving graduand, feel free to get baking and pay me a visit.
